


Carol

by upriserseven



Series: C-53 (or, maybe, Home) [3]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 16:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18154058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upriserseven/pseuds/upriserseven
Summary: Maybe you’re too old for this, but you figure you’re sick and all anyone wants when they’re sick is for their parents to take care of them until they feel better, right? You think maybe you’re falling asleep, so you try to mumble that you missed her, and you’re glad she’s home.





	Carol

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmmm I'm nervous about this one but here goes. This idea planted itself pretty firmly in my brain, and I'd been toying with the idea of a Monica POV anyway so why not combine the two, eh? Again, the response to everything so far has been beautiful and I'm so thankful to everyone who takes a second to comment or leave kudos. 
> 
> Again, you don't have to read the rest of the series for this to make sense, but it's a series for a reason, so it works best if you do.

The first time she comes back, it’s the middle of the night and you’re asleep, but you get to spend the whole of the next day with her (you’re even allowed to take it off school), so you don’t mind too much. The second time, you’re awake but you’re inside, so you only see her when your mom drags her in. And then the third, and the fourth, you miss it again, and your mom still gets to see her first. It’s fair, you guess, and you know that they probably kiss or whatever while they’re still out on the porch, but you feel like you miss all the fun of her arriving.

Which is why it’s extra annoying on the fifth visit, when you’re the only one that’s home, but you’re on the couch inside because you’re sick, so you _still_ miss seeing her land. You have to watch her fly away a lot, but you never get to see the moment she flies home and it sucks. Still, when she slowly opens the door and peers inside, softly shouting to see if anyone’s home, you don’t mind too much. You’re pretty happy you get to see her first, for once.

“I’m here!” Maybe you try a little too hard to be enthusiastic, and you know your voice is hoarse and the coughing fit that starts immediately after ruins the fun a little, but you can tell she’s happy to see you anyway.  

“Hey, Trouble. You look like you decided it was time to test my superhuman immune system.” She’s not funny, but you laugh anyway. Because her stupid jokes have always made you laugh, and that hasn’t changed just because you’re fourteen and almost an adult now.

“S’about time someone did.”

It’s a casual ‘hmm’ but the look in her eyes and the speed with which she walks over to you implies she’s not really sure of the best course of action. You’re suddenly very aware that Carol hasn’t had to take care of a sick kid (a sick _human_ kid, at least, you’re not sure what happens in other galaxies) for over ten years, and actually it’s probably a lot easier now that it was when you were four.

“Mom’s out buying medicines and stuff from the store, she should be back soon.” You think it helps, but she’s still looking at you in a way you don’t recognise, so you reach out to her and hope she’ll take your hand. “I’m good, it’s just a cold. Everyone at school’s had it. Come sit with me? Tell me who you’ve been saving this time.”

She does. It turns out she’s saved a lot of people in the _half-rotation_ since she was here last, so once she’s changed into some normal clothes, you lay your head on her lap and she strokes your hair while she talks to you about it all. Maybe you’re too old for this, but you figure you’re sick and all anyone wants when they’re sick is for their parents to take care of them until they feel better, right? You think maybe you’re falling asleep, so you try to mumble that you missed her, and you’re glad she’s home.

It’s the door closing that wakes you up, but not all the way, so you’re pretty sure you can get back to sleep now if you just don’t open your eyes. Carol shifts under you, standing up and putting your head on a pillow and you think she’s probably going over to kiss your mom hello, so you don’t really mind keeping your eyes closed because yeah, you know they love each other and that’s great, but she’s still your mom so you don’t really need to see them make out, thank you.

“She called me Mama.” Carol’s whispering, in case she wakes you up, but you still hear it and _oh, crap_ , did you?

“What?”

“Monica. Earlier, she was falling asleep? She called me Mama. I don’t know if she meant to or not but… Mama.” You can’t figure out her tone of voice and oh, did you mess up? You hadn’t really realised you’d called her that, and you’ve never called her that before, not even when you’re talking _about_ her but now that you’re thinking about it… she kind of is. Okay, she’s not. But she really, really is. She’s not like your actual mom, who is with you every day and who takes care of you and who raised you, but she’s still kind of your parent too. She _helped_ raise you for those first five years, and she would’ve been here the whole time if she could’ve. Since she’s been back, you’ve only seen her twice a year at most but when she’s here, she makes breakfast and you all watch TV together and she helps you with your homework and she’s your mom’s girlfriend so… maybe? You hadn’t meant to say it though. You didn’t realise you wanted to.

“Carol, baby, breathe. She called you Mama?” You try to half-open one eye, wondering if that will help you see whether this is okay or not. You think maybe Carol is crying, you can’t really tell, but she’s definitely, definitely smiling.

“She did.”

You don’t know who grabs who but they’re hugging so tight and maybe you didn’t screw it all up after all. There’s no way you’re getting back to sleep now, so you fake a very dramatic yawn and pretend to be waking up, not really caring if either of them buys it. You’re not sure they’d even notice it with how happy they look right now, so you smile at them both and when your mom grabs the medicines she bought for you, Carol is still looking in your direction with watery eyes.

You try your hardest to be normal for the rest of the night. You’re sick, so they don’t think anything of it when you’re quiet, which works out really well because you can’t stop thinking about this. You called her Mama, and the word is jumping around in your brain. Mama.

You’ve known, officially, that your mom and Carol used to be together since Carol came back a few years ago. You guess they didn’t really hide it from you too much when you were really little, and when you were showing her the pictures of your little family, from before the crash, your brain just kind of said _duh_ at you and you realised that your Auntie Carol wasn’t really your Auntie at all. You knew _she_ didn’t remember though, and you can’t even imagine how bad your mom must’ve felt. So when Carol flew away, you asked her about it, and the two of you sat together that night and she told you all about it. About how she and her best friend fell in love, and even though the world hates it and even with everything that happened, you still thought (well, think) that maybe they’re the luckiest people in the world, because having a best friend who you also want to spend your whole life with is so, so cool and you know that that’s set the standard pretty high for whoever you might love one day.

She remembered, eventually. The first time she came back (the first real visit), something happened and after Carol had jumped on your bed in the morning to wake you up for breakfast, the two of you ran downstairs and she kissed your mom on the cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world and maybe it was, because you hadn’t seen your mom smile like that in almost seven years. At some point, you all sat down and talked about it but really, there wasn’t anything to talk about because you knew they were in love and of course you were fine with it and ugh, you don’t like it but yes, you know why it might not be safe for you talk about it. They’re your family, and that’s all that matters and now, now you replace the world family with the word mothers and it doesn’t feel any different.

Not to you anyway, but it seems like it feels different to them. Eventually, after you’ve all had dinner and when you’re feeling a little better, Carol flops herself down next to you on the couch, while your mom sits on the armchair and smiles at you in that gross way she does when you’re together, like you know she wishes she had a camera to take a picture of how totally normal it is, even if it’s only for a minute. She slings her arm around you, pretending to be totally casual and opens her mouth four times before any words come out.

“Hey, Lieutenant Trouble?” She doesn’t really call you that as much as she used to, and you think maybe it’s because she’s worried you’re going to complain you’re too old for it. You would never.

“Yeah?” You know what she’s going to say before she says it, but then you’d have to admit you were faking being asleep, so you let her chew her lip for a minute first and okay maybe you feel a bit guilty about that.

“When I got here earlier, before your mom came home? You, uh, you said something. I’m pretty sure you were basically sleeping so I don’t know if you meant to or if you even remember, but I wanted to talk to you about it?” Her whole body seems tense and she seems so not like Carol and you hate it.

“You mean when I called you Mama?” They’re both a little shocked by that but you couldn’t let her suffer anymore so it had to be done.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that. So, you do remember?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise ‘til I’d already said it.” It’s only a half-lie. “Is it okay? That I called you that? I won’t do it again if it’s not, or if you don’t like it.”

“No! No no no, it’s totally… of course you can call me that. I love it.” She’s softer now, she seems more relaxed. “I just wanted to talk to you about it, I guess?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Well, we’ve established it’s all okay. Monica, you feeling up to a movie or you too tired?” You know your mom is trying to stop it feeling so weird and you’re thankful. Honestly, you definitely don’t feel good enough to stay awake for a movie, but Carol’s pulled you a little bit tighter and kissed your head about 40 times in the last minute, and you don’t want to give this moment up, so you say you’ll stay up anyway.

“Pretty sure _Mama_ will manage to carry me to bed if I fall asleep anyway.” You turn around to poke your tongue out at her, but hers is already out because of course it is, who else did you learn that from? You shuffle a little closer to her and get your mom to come and sit with the two of you. You’re pretty tall, actually, so there really isn’t enough space on the couch for the three of you but none of you care.

She came home on the Friday and she doesn’t have to leave until Sunday (you wonder if she has an Earth calendar up there because she’s getting pretty good at weekends), and you’re so glad that you’re a lot better by Saturday evening. It’s spring and it’s warm outside, so on Saturday the three of you have a picnic in your own back yard and you take a camera out with you, because everything looks so beautiful out there (and because all the pictures of your family you have in the house are old now, and it’d be cool to have some new ones.) You try not to think about the fact that it’ll be months and months before Carol sees the developed pictures, but you know she’s going to love them when she does, so that’s good enough for you. You even take a picture of them kissing when they don’t realise, because it’s gross but actually, they’re kind of cute, and the world doesn’t like them loving each other, so probably nobody’s ever taken a picture of them like that. You really hope that one turns out okay.  

Now that you’ve called her Mama, you don’t seem to be able to stop and you’re pretty sure she’d never want you to. You whine it out at her when she wakes you up way too early in the morning, and you say it without even realising when you’re asking her to pass you something or change the channel, and you say “Goodnight Mom, goodnight Mama” before you go up to bed and every single time she has that ecstatic, goofy look she used to have when she talked to you about the stars when you were tiny. Those have always been your favourite memories of her, even if they’re hazy because you were so little, but they’re nowhere near as good as this. You always thought she looked happy then because she loved the stars so much, but she has that same look now and you realise it was never about the stars, it was always because she loves _you_ that much and you know your family is weird and definitely not like anyone else’s but you think it’s pretty awesome.

When she wakes you up on Sunday morning, it’s not the same as usual, and instead of bouncing next to you and telling you she’s hungry, she playfully shoves you over and lies down next to you.

“Don’t care if you’re fourteen, I’m getting in with you anyway so don’t even think about acting like you’re too cool for me.” You roll your eyes, just enough so that she can see, but you turn onto your side to face her anyway.

“Not hungry yet?”

“Monica Rambeau, you take that back. I am always hungry and you know it.”

“True.”

“Just wanted a minute with you before your mom woke up, that’s all.”

“Okay.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her this quiet, or this still, for this long, and you’d probably be worried if she didn’t look so comfortable.

“I know you’re going to be sick of me talking about it, so I promise that from the next visit on, I won’t make a big deal out it, but you have to let me say this, okay?” She has that look again, the goofy one, so you just nod at her. “I know I’m kind of the silly one, right? And your mom does all the hard stuff and I just get to come and hang out a couple of times a year, but I need to make sure you know that I’d be here, actually being a parent if I could. You don’t have to say anything, as long as you know that every time I leave you it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I wouldn’t do it unless I had to. Because being your family, being a mother to you, is the coolest fucking thing I get to do. I love you so much, both of you, and you don’t know how happy I am you want to call me Mama.”

Sometimes she talks so fast she barely takes a breath, but this time you’re sure it’s because she’s trying not to cry, so you let her carry on and your brain knows to keep up even if it’s too early and you’re tired. “But I also want you to know that if anything changes, and if you don’t want to call me that anymore, that’s okay too. If you want to go back to Auntie Carol, or just Carol, or whatever, that’s okay and you don’t even have to explain it if you don’t want to. As long as you love me.”

She doesn’t know that’s a Backstreet Boys song, so you ignore it even though it makes you want to laugh. Instead you just hug her and the two of you stay that way for a minute before she decides it’s time to eat and you and your stomach agree.

“I’m telling Mom you said the f word.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”

“Are you _blackmailing_ me?”

“Is it working?”

“Blueberry or chocolate chip?” You just stare at her for a second, eyebrow raised, until she starts to move around the kitchen. “Both. Got it.”

You tell your mom anyway, once you have your pancakes, and she swats Carol’s arm and Carol declares that she’s never making you pancakes again, but they’re both laughing. Some part of your brain feels like you want to always remember this as one of the happiest moments of your life, so you use the rest of the film in your camera to capture the image of your mothers in their pyjamas, sitting in front of more pancakes than three people could ever eat, and Carol getting syrup in her hair. That one is going on your wall, no doubt about it.

It’s never easy when she leaves, but this is definitely the lightest you’ve ever felt at the end of one of her visits, and she promises to try her hardest to land when you can see it next time. Your mom makes a joke about her landings not being all that impressive anyway, and when they both laugh your heart is happy, even if you’re not in on the joke.

“I’ll be back, soon as I can.”

“I know. You always are.”

“Remember what I said, yeah?”

“I remember.”

“Alright, give me a hug. Damn unpredictable teenagers, next time I see you, you might be way too cool for me. Or you might’ve grown a foot and I won’t even be able to hug you properly.”

“ _Mama_.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I can fly. You can never grow too tall for me to hug you.” She winks at you and she’s really _not_ funny. You hug her anyway, maybe for a little longer than usual, and she kisses your head and tells you she loves you. You hang back while she says goodbye to your mom, but the two of them pull you into some kind of awkward three person family hug and you pretend to hate it but you don’t, not even for a second.

She leaves, and just like always, you and your mom stand for a little while, looking at the stars, happy just to know that she’s out there. But it’s getting late, and the breeze is coming in, so you have to go inside eventually. Your mom hugs you tighter than usual, and you know she wants to talk about it, so you’re already totally prepared for the question.

“So… Mama, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> also hello I know a lot of people are just calling them carolmaria but my brain is like "call them RamVers because that's exactly what Maria is going to do" thank you for your time


End file.
